ClockStruck
by narnianofcairparavel
Summary: In a final attempt to save her failing marriage, Hermione finds herself in a time where Voldemort still goes by Tom Riddle. Can Hermione find a way to change history...and make Tom Riddle know Love? Rated T.
1. A Twist In Time

**Clock Struck**:

**A/N:** This is mine and Marcy's (TheWritingPauper) attempt at a collab, I am still working on my other stories I promise But me and Marcy have been wanting to write this for ages and since Harry Potter has ended I'm sure we're not the only ones pining for a fix, even if it is only fanfiction We apologise in advance, but if you don't like this pairing you know the solution, don't read this.

The Tom Riddle we decided to base this on is the Tom Riddle from Chamber of Secrets (Film) We agree… he's cute, (yes we understand he supposedly grew into the nose less Voldemort portrayed fantabulously by Ralph Fiennes…) just keep that in mind whilst reading, and we also know this is a rather farfetched fanfiction, b

**Disclaimer:** We own only the storyline; all other elements of this story belong to JK Rowling unless we say so.

Hermione stared at the ceiling frowning with concentration. The last argument with Ron had taken all the energy out of her; she could even complete a simple repairing spell. The long crack from Ron's disarming spell ran from one corner to the other. Hermione sniffed in distaste. They had been arguing for years now. Rose rushed in to her mother smiling sadly.

"Mum, please don't be angry with me, I know that you and dad don't like the Malfoy family -" the redhead began, Hermione smiled at her daughter who was shaking nervously "I'm dating Scorpius Malfoy," she whispered.

Hermione soothed Hugo as she tucked him in, the shouting match between her husband and daughter was still continuing and she was getting tired of it.

"Mummy, why doesn't Daddy like Mr Malfoy?" her youngest child asked flinching as a slapping noise broke the silence.

"It's a long story, Hugo," she smiled, before leaving the room and heading up to her daughter's room.

"Ronald Weasley!" she screamed as she took in the scene before her. Rose lay on her bed sobbing into a pillow; Ron was red to his ears with fury.

"She is dating the_ Malfoy_ boy," Ron muttered through grimaced teeth. "I will not allow it, Hermione, no daughter of mine will marry a _Malfoy_"

Hermione glanced at the heaving mass of her daughter. "She will marry whoever she pleases, Ron," she breathed making her way over to her daughter's sobbing frame. Rose sat up before falling into her mother's out stretched arms

"If that is the case Mum, I am no daughter of his," Rose whispered into Hermione's shoulder.

"I have had enough Ron," Hermione started ignoring Ron's furious expression.

"_You_ have had enough!" Ron snapped striding forward, his wand in his hand.

"_Ronald_, I am _one thousand_ times better than you at magic, don't push me," Hermione also walked forward.

"Get out of my house!"

"Your house? _Your_ house?" She yelled incredulous.

"Yes, my house, you can come back when you have calmed down," her husband replied calmly, almost devoid of any emotion as Hermione shuddered angrily. She walked towards Rose briskly.

"I'll see you soon darling" she whispered hugging her daughter tightly. "Promise me you'll look after Hugo, while I'm gone"

"I will mum," Rose choked.

"Good girl," Hermione smiled sadly.

With her stuff packed into three muggle shopping bags, Hermione disapparated.

Standing outside the leaky cauldron Hermione broke down. How had it come to this? She had never tried to kid herself, the marriage had been strained for a long time, the arguments had been getting worse recently, but she had never expected it to get this bad.

As Tom, still the innkeeper led her to an empty room her hand moved absentmindedly to the chain around her neck. The time-turner hung on a delicate chain, its weight almost reassuring as she caressed it, smiling at the memories it brought back.

"I believe you should have this back, you will use it wisely, as you always have won't you? For good," Professor McGonagall has stated confidently as she returned the device to Hermione at the end of her resumed seventh year. Having the time turner back had been a great gift even then, she had revisited the first kiss she had shared with Ron, the moment he proposed, their wedding, even the day they had travelled to the beach with Harry, Ginny, their eldest James and Rose. Watching Rose chase after the seagulls, Harry chastising James for almost using magic in front of the muggle children who thought their sand castle was better than his.

"Here you are miss…?"

"_Granger_, Hermione Granger"

"Honoured to have you here," the elderly man grinned toothlessly.

"Thank you; I'll try not to bother you," Hermione returned his smile before entering the little room before her.

It was barely bigger than the room she had set aside in her own home for books – no, _Ron's _home she thought sadly, as the realisation dawned on her. He had wanted her out of the house and away from their children._ Ron_, who had_ once_ loved her, who had once been mistakenly jealous that she loved _Harry _as more than a brother. _Ron_, who kissed her the night Voldemort, had been defeated; she missed _that_ Ron- she sighed before resuming her inspection of the room. The bed was small, but comfortable and if Hermione was honest it really was quite pretty to behold. As she placed her books on the dainty bedside counter, her hand went once more to the chain around her neck. As her fingers toyed with the time turner she gasped;

"I could go back," She breathed to herself, the truth of the words flooding over her, washing her sadness away to replace it with jubilation. She could go back and stop Ron turning into this, well _whatever_ it was he had become. She moved her shaking hands to little metal contraption again. It looked so insignificant, yet it could be the key to saving her marriage and changing her future. She turned the turner a few times, her breath hitching as the room moved.

"Excuse me?" Hermione spun to the sound of the voice behind her. A small boy was standing beside her, dressed in a Slytherin robe.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologised quickly, moving to the side as he passed quickly. She was in Hogwarts? She looked around her anxiously, she had to find herself, where she was she would find Ron.

"Excuse me?" she tapped the nearest girl to her; startled the girl turned to her, her plait whipping her in the face as she did so.

"Y-yes?" she stuttered blushing crimson, clearly uncomfortable being spoken to.

"What's your name?" Hermione whispered kindly, her mothering instinct still there making her smile.

"Lucy, Lucy Parnsie"

"Hello Lucy, I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione stated, offering her hand to the bewildered first year, "Can you tell me where I can find Harry Potter?"

"I'm sorry, _who_?"

Hermione suppressed a laugh, this girl must be a muggle born like her _"Harry_, Harry Potter, The _Chosen One_, The _Boy Who Lived_," she added, laughing at the memory of Harry's many alter-egos.

"I wish I could help you, but, I've _never_ heard of _anyone_ called _any_ of those things," Lucy apologised, though her eyes were sympathetic, clearly wondering if there was anything she could do to help the kind girl that had stopped to talk to her "Why don't you ask one of the professors? Professor Dumbledore might know, he seems good with names, he's very kind"

Hermione nodded, Dumbledore would know where to find Harry, of course he would "Thank you Lucy, do you know where to find him?"

"There he is, right there, on the stair case," Lucy smiled warmly as she pointed in the direction she intended for Hermione to go.

Hermione looked where Lucy was pointing; the wizard in front of her had a long beard, auburn in colour, his hair matching it. His eyes were a startling shade of blue and hidden behind half-moon spectacles. He was younger than Hermione had ever seen him, but he was unmistakeably Dumbledore.

"That's Professor Dumbledore," Hermione confirmed, smiling as Lucy nodded, her eyes betraying her thoughts unknowingly.

_She's _definitely _crazy._

"Yes, that's him, talking to Tom Riddle"

Hermione's breathing stopped abruptly "Tom Riddle?" she squeaked.

"Are you new here? Surely you're in the same year as he is?_ Everyone _knows Tom," Lucy grimaced at the hidden meaning in her own words, I'm late for class Hermione, I'll see you"

Hermione leant against the stair rail breathless; she had gone back too far. She was sharing a school with the young Voldemort? Her hand flew to her neck, she had to get away, this was a terrible mistake, a _careless_ one she chastised.

_I have to get back_

She felt for the time turner, her breath coming out in terrified, shallow gasps; it wasn't there, the time-turner had _gone_.

"Hey," A silky voice momentarily distracted Hermione from her panic. She turned quickly, stumbling as she did so; into the arms of Tom Riddle.

"Hi," she muttered, stunned she actually managed to produce coherent speech.

"Whoa, have I done something wrong?"

_Yes, almost wrecked my life._

"No, sorry, I'm not having the best of days," His eyes narrowed quickly, before a smile came to his face.

"Tom Riddle, I don't believe we've met?"

_Not really, and that was when you didn't have a nose._


	2. How to Save a Life

Hey guys, The Writing Pauper (Marcy) is here with her first chapter of Clockstruck, which is the second chapter overall.

It has been a while since I have written something but don't worry. I have a new idea for a new story which is a sequel to Mistakes Forgiven starring Daisy Malfoy and a certain Lupin (hint hint). I haven't started writing it yet for I am outlining the whole plot so hopefully it will be ready to start writing.

Hope you enjoy my collab with Kim (Narnian of Cair Paravel). xxx

"How the hell could it have disappeared?"

After that little bump in with Voldemort (or is it Tom?) Hermione quickly made up an excuse and ran towards the only place that was quiet and away from anyone; the girl's bathroom.

Thankfully, everyone was in class so no one was there. Wow, it's exactly the same. The green cubicles and tiles were still there, the walls were the exact colour as it was and the sinks were untouched too.

But Hermione didn't notice this for she was a bit too busy freaking out. She went over to the nearest sink and ran the tap, breaking the silence that surrounded the bathroom, and splashed the water on her face a few times. It did help her calm down a bit and she grabbed a towel and patted her face dry.

_Oh my gosh..._

When Hermione was drying her face she had an accidental glimpse in the mirror and it nearly knocked her sideways. She looked young again. She didn't look like a thirty-something year old woman who was having marital problems with two kids . She looked seventeen again. Her hair was free of those grey hairs she had, her wrinkles were nowhere to be seen, her eyes still had their sparkle and the twelve pounds she gained in her years of marriage have magically disappeared.

"That's not supposed to happen," Hermione whispered to herself. She still gawked at reflection in the mirror; like the person in it was someone she knew a long time ago but she had trouble placing her.

_What happened_ to me? What happened to that girl _in the mirror_?

Oh wait, she knew the answer to that. The girl in the mirror was a care free seventeen year old girl who was fighting evil beside her best friends, Harry and Ron. The girl in the mirror was a smart girl who had a bright future in front of her. The girl in the mirror was falling in love with her best friend who, luckily, felt the same way.

The woman looking at her was a stressed mother with a strained marriage, trying to relive the happy days.

_Is that too much to ask?_

The only answer she got was someone sobbing in one of the cubicles behind her. Hermione turned around and walked slowly towards the cubicle, where the sound was coming from, and knocked on the door. No one responded but the girl did sob even louder.

"Um, are you okay?" Hermione asked. At least there was a response because the girl inside unlocked the door and opened to face-

Holy Cricket! _Moaning Myrtle_! _Alive_!

The only difference in Moaning Myrtle's... living appearance was that you couldn't see through her anymore. She still had the same black hair and glass, which she always said was the main target for teasing. And right now she looked livid.

"Am I _okay_?" she said quietly, giving Hermione daggers. "I am hiding away in a bathroom, crying my eyes out, on my own because Olive Hornby teased me about my glasses. DO I LOOK LIKE I'M OKAY?"

Yep, it's Myrtle.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to-"

"Go away!" and with that the door was slammed right in her face.

_Wow_, that's the last time Hermione was going to help someone.

As Hermione turned around she found someone else standing by the sink.

"What are _you _doing here?"

Tom Riddle instantly turned around to the sound of Hermione's voice, startled. He clearly didn't think anyone was going to be here at this time.

"I could be asking you that," he said, turning on the charm Hermione thought disgustedly.

"I'm a girl in the girl's bathroom," Hermione said after a while due to fear that froze her body.

"Oh dear, my mistake. I'll just leave now," and with that he walked out. Looking like he was ready to kill.

Hermione watched Voldemort (wait, _Tom_?) walk out, totally confused by what just happened. She looked over to the sink that he was standing in front of and looked closely at it.

He was here for a reason. _No way_ did he accidentally walk in here.

Looking at it closely, Hermione didn't see anything out of the ordinary. The sink didn't have any water in it, the drain looked empty inside, and the taps weren't levers for any hidden entrance-

Wait, _hidden entrance_?

Hermione instantly froze at that thought; she took a step back and looked up at the row of sinks, her heart picking up a beat. And with that she gasped.

I just stopped Moaning Myrtle being killed by Voldemort's Basilisk!

Wait, Tom Riddles, no, Voldemort. Tom's or Voldemort ... _oh, I give up._

This was shaping up to be one of the weirdest experiences in her entire life, and she was Hermione Granger, she'd definitely had some pretty "out-there" and weird experiences with Ron and Harry in her youth.

**A/N** (From Kim) We're really thankful for the positive response, it means **a lot**… and I am really grateful to Marcy for being patient with me writing my chapter, it took me sooo long! She's a writing genius so please review to let her know and for us to both gauge how this fic should go!

Sorry if this is a bit short?


	3. Make it Right

Hermione pressed her palm to her burning cheeks; she had never felt so confused in her entire life.

"Merlin's beard I've messed up," she muttered,

There was no way she could possibly undo any of it now, by saving Myrtle- albeit intentionally- she had altered the course of history, she was in too deep. Another thought occurred to her, if she could change that, she could potentially prevent Voldemort ever coming to be.

It seemed, even to her, an impossible, reckless and dangerous plan, but it could save the lives of some of the people she had been closest to in her years at Hogwarts.

**X-X-X**

"And how exactly did _you_ come to be head girl?"

"Same way you did, _Tom,_ I was chosen," Hermione huffed indignantly, staring at the many portraits of former holders of her new position that plastered the walls of the Head's dormitory gossiping unashamedly.

"Of course," he nodded, turning his back on her as he made his way up the stairs to his section of the room, leaving Hermione time to herself.

She looked at the stack of books on the glass coffee table, stroking the worn binding of each in turn, the rough and battered feel of them soothing her with its familiarity.

Hermione sighed as she dipped her quill in the discarded ink-pot, her eye-lids growing heavier with each scratch of the quill-tip.

**X-X-X**

"Granger wake up, Granger?" The emotionless voice of Tom Riddle jarred her from her restless sleep, his dark eyes half concerned as he watched her, "You were screaming," he stated matter-of-factly, his words an expressionless monotone of sounds blending into one.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up, how early is it?" Hermione yawned, glancing at the still- black sky through the window.

"Five thirty, I'm surprised you didn't wake yourself up."

Hermione sighed, pulling herself upright in the chair she had drifted off in, attempting once to run her fingers through the untameable tangle that was her hair; she must have looked a right sight.

"There's a comb on the table," Tom muttered, seemingly distracted by something out the window that Hermione couldn't see.

"Thanks," she whispered, tugging the silver plated comb through her hair, scowling as it caught the knots, "What are you staring at?"

"Nothing of consequence," he smiled, his voice silky in a half attempt to be charming, "What were you writing?"

"_Nothing of consequence,"_ she countered, her eyes narrowing as he smiled, suddenly alarmed as she realised what had just happened.

'_You just flirted with Voldemort_!' the stunned voice in her head cried, adding to the horror that had just engulfed Hermione, '_and you enjoyed it_!'

"Touché," he bowed, retreating from the room, once more leaving Hermione to her now significantly more dangerous thoughts.

**X-X-X**

Life as a head girl suited Hermione better than she had expected, despite sharing her living space with the future murderer of Merlin knew how many people, she found she slotted right into the position of honour. She surprised herself with the new found understanding of Defence Against the Dark Arts, laughing at the newfound irony of the situation. The only thing that had really changed since her arrival was her behaviour around Tom Riddle; the incident after he woke her up had certainly shaken her, and she had done her utmost best to avoid him since; something that was no mean feat since they shared a dormitory.

She approached the portrait of the head's dormitory, her mind engulfed by the book in her hands, _'Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes' _smiling as she remembered reading it timelessly during Harry's period as a 'Triwizard Champion' the memories of which still had the ability to make her laugh and cry to that very day.

"_Hobgoblin_," she muttered, squeezing the door, not bothering to look up from her book.

She walked once around the room, checking for any sign she wasn't the only one within the dormitory, comfortably certain she half threw herself into the nearest chair; "Ow!" she gasped, bolting upward, ' Bewitchment and Charmes book haphazardly discarded on the floor. She twisted in the seat; indignantly searching for whatever it was that had taken to almost impaling her back.

She gasped as she recognised the book she had fallen on, she had taken it many years previously when hunting horcruxes with Harry and Ron.

"_Secrets of the Darkest Art_," she whispered a sense of dread rising hot and fast like lava began to build; if Riddle was already reading this it did not bode well for her plans.

She turned at the sound of footsteps passing through the portrait and threw the deep purple book from her, a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead as she was faced with the future Dark Lord; No. She refused to let that happen, there had to be a way to save the ones she'd loved and lost. There _**had**_ to.

Tom Riddle entered the room, his fingers twisting around his emerald tie as though attempting to strangle it. Hermione bent down to pick up the book she had entered with, noticing his eyes seemed almost puffy as he wiped forcefully at them with the back of his hand. Had Voldemort been…_crying_… the very notion of it seemed impossible, laughable until another thought wormed its way forward; even Tom Riddle was human.

"What?" he muttered, pushing roughly past her, his eyes fell on the discarded dark arts book and widened, "What is that doing in the Head's dormitory?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," She whispered, picking the blasted book up and shoving it at him. He barely blinked at her, taking the book thoughtfully, almost tentative, his eyes on the book the entire time, "I would never have touched that, that,_ thing_; I lost so many loved ones to a dark wizard, I would never," Hermione murmured , her hands shaking as he slipped it from her grasp.

"Grindelwald did some terrible things."

She half opened her mouth to correct him, before realising it wasn't worth it, she would just cause problems, "Yes _Grindelwald_," she breathed, her eyes filling with tears as she rushed to her room, leaving Tom Riddle alone to ponder what had just happened.

**A/N:** I apologise, I know it took me a while to get anything done, so Sorry about that :/ By the way this is Kim :D, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'd love some reviews… me hint? Yep :P

**Disclaimer:** We own only the storyline,… sadly… I'm going to go sit in the corner, excuse me…


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